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I'm pretty nervous about taking a 12-hour road trip with Mamie tomorrow. When I think, "12 hours in a car with a toddler," anxiety seems warranted. But we've done this trip with her twice before in the last year. We took a six-hour trip with her just at Thanksgiving. What could go wrong? Well, she could start crying when we get in the car and not stop until we get to Atmore. I suppose if she were going to cry 12 straight hours, she could do it on any day, regardless of the setting. Ok, ok we'll be fine.

Mamie is 15 months old today. She is crazy. She climbs all the furniture, throws all the food, and refuses to be tamed into wearing shoes or barrettes. She also gives really sweet hugs and blows kisses.

Peanut allergy is so rare, why do people make such a big deal about it?

What I think now:

Peanut allergy is so rare, but I'm glad people make such a big deal about it!

Statistics seem to be shifty, but the interwebs say less than one percent of Americans are allergic to peanuts. This has given me a lot of omgwhymybaby feelings this week. Also, my perspective is distorted to suspect the inclusion of peanuts in everything from pizza crust to milk.

As with all problems, I attacked this one with my weapon of choice -- a book! Super readers, to the rescue!

I hope after some adjustment this will all seem normal, and I won't see demonic Mr. Peanut around every corner.

Kids make good social currency. Anywhere you find yourself, if you are among people who have kids, you have plenty to talk about. How does she sleep? When did he walk? What schools are you looking at?

I fell into this pattern today with my friend at the gym. We had 45 minutes of good treadmill time to chat and I bet half of it was babyish, until she said "What have you been doing for yourself?"

What have I been doing for myself? I do make an effort to punctuate my days with things that are just for me -- reading, tv, writing, exercise. Naps. I always had this idea when Nick and I had kids, we would just fold them into an already rich and interesting life. Man, I hope that's what's happening. I don't even have enough perspective at the moment to tell!

I am in my office writing this post, while Mamie is in her room with her first ever non-family babysitter. Like her first birthday, this is a milestone for us, an indication that I am maturing and that she is adaptable. I thought it would be a good time to write about her first year with us.
Did I ever tell you the story of when you were born?
The week before Mamie was born, I became increasingly uncomfortable. I'm sure any pregnant woman would say the same, but it was a whole month until her due date, and still I was at the point where walking more than a few yards was too much. That Friday, I spent all day lying on the sofa while maids cleaned the house to prepare for her arrival in a few weeks, so I thought. Not knowing it would be our last meal before parenthood, Nick and I had a quick dinner at the Greek restaurant nearby.
Early Saturday morning, it was time to go to the hospital. The next 30 hours were an agonizing mess of thirst, pain, decisions, waiting. Finally, we all…

Today my big decluttering discovery was the disappointment I feel about my dream library. We are so lucky to have this house that's big enough for everything we want, including a room just for books. Except it's not just for books, it's also for cat litter boxes. I've accepted this is the best location for the boxes, not trying to come up with a different arrangement, I just need to work through how this arrangement makes my library something other than the cozy booklover's grotto I dreamed of.

But I still believe it can be that dream place! It will take a certain amount of work. To spend any time in a room with litter boxes, there has to be daily scooping and sweeping. Nick took over litter box duties 8 years ago when we started trying to have a baby. (According to science, pregnant ladies can't touch cat poop; I exploited this.) Let's face the straight poop here: I can clean the litter boxes. Somewhere Nick is reading this and a joyful tear just t…

Today I threw away my push present. It was a tough thing to throw away the 8-month-old flip flops because they were the first gift Nick bought me the week after Mamie was born. (Unless a bag of candy bars counts?) Fresh new flip flops were a dream in the early days when everything about life seemed out of order and harder than I was capable of handling.

Still, today, I threw them away because 8 months of daily wear is all one can expect from even the best flip flops. It was a single step in my month-long decluttering program. I've learned that I can make a huge impact in just 10 minutes, but I can also get absolutely no where in a whole day. I just have to keep working on it, and at this halfway point in the month, I still have hope and a little steam.

I started this project by assigning each room or area of the house to a day of the week. For example today, Monday, my areas are the living room and the front yard. The first week I only planned to spend 10 minutes in each area. …

An area the size of a grapefruit is burning below my rib cage. I feel like a hot rag is shoved in my throat, and I'm struggling to get any air through it. If I breathe too deeply my chest will burst.

Through shallow breaths, my mind starts to list my failings:

Not niceNot prettyNot good at cooking or cleaningNot interestingNot a good motherNot necessary
Two vices tighten, one on my forehead, one on the back of my neck. I want to reassure myself: But I'm smart.
Panic answers, Smart doesn't count if you don't do anything with it.
Vices tighten. Hands shake to thwart any useful activity. Throat aches from constriction.

You know how to fix this. Take deep breaths, take a pill. Just act normal, don't be weird.

I think I could make 20 posts just documenting the sweet handcrafts family and friends have made for Mamie. I'll start here with a quick and dirty few...

Really, this is just the beginning. I have piles of cozy things and walls of art to show off, all made by Mamie's loved ones! (And these pics were taken when she was only a few weeks old, so she's not even the same baby anymore!)

About Me

I have been a librarian, a newspaper reporter, a market researcher for a national farming magazine. Now I am a mother compelled to model passionate pursuits for my daughters. My passionate pursuits are writing, wellness, and creating a family community among the people we love and learn from.
This blog is about what I'm doing, learning, reading, and obsessing over. Pretty things, crazy things, secret things.